


Fairfield County, Connecticut

by caledonius72



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Androids, Domestic Bliss, Doppelganger, F/M, M/M, Robots, Temporary Character Death - Jack Harkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:03:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2112711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caledonius72/pseuds/caledonius72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Domestic Bliss (tm) with Jack and Ianto, or is it? Mwahahahah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairfield County, Connecticut

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LiveJournal.  
> NC-17 for male/male sex, and some violence. Don’t read any further if you don’t like.  
> Inspired by and characters from the 1975 film, The Stepford Wives.  
> Disclaimer: Belongs to the producers (BBC Wales, Edgar J. Scherick, Columbia Pictures), the creators (Russell T. Davies et al, Ira Lewin, William Goldman, Bryan Forbes). This has been written for fun and not for profit.

Another beautiful day in Fairfield County, Connecticut. A cornflower blue sky, brilliant sunshine beaming down. Warm and balmy - a delight. Neighbours greet each other in the street, children play, pies are baked, and lawns are tended. Perfection.

Out on Old Farm Road lies a colonial farmhouse, a big place, much extended over time. Whitewashed clapboard wall, blue framed windows, a sloping lawn in front, well tended borders. Two cars sit in the driveway - an SUV and a station wagon. Round back is much larger - a kitchen garden, an orchard, a vast lawn, a summer house, a pool, stables, a barbecue, a terrace with table and awnings. A lovely big family home.

A man closes the gate from the orchard and walks up the lawn, smiling fondly at two children playing with a small dog. He steps in through French windows into the kitchen, a basket of fruit under his arm.

Above the kitchen, white drapes flutter at an open window, they dance in the late morning breeze. In through the window, and there's a large master bedroom. Stripped and polished wooden floor, the walls decorated in a delicate stripe, a few well chosen antique pieces of furniture, including a vast bed, facing the window.

The bed is dressed in crisp white linen, pillows all askew. The bed is rumpled as it's occupied. A handsome man lies sprawled like a starfish under the sheets - a good firm jaw and a thick head of hair, late thirties, if his face is anything to go by. His chest rises and falls in restful slumber.

* * *

Captain Jack Harkness gasped awake. Something had woken him from a dreamless sleep. His head ached a little as he heard the sound of children's voices trying to quieten an excited dog.

Jack lay there, taking in his surroundings. No immediate threat: no guns pointing at him, no sinister figures ready to pounce, no drooling aliens - not even a Weevil.

He quickly scanned the room. "Nice", he thought, "Must be a hotel or a B&B or something – Ianto treating me to some R’n’R?". His eyes spotted a doorway he assumed led to a bathroom. Throwing off the covers he planted his feet firmly on the floor. He raised an eyebrow as he spotted he was wearing boxers and a t-shirt. Odd, normally he was naked.

The sound of a tenor voice humming floated up the stairs. Pulling on a robe hanging from the door, air force blue, he noted, he wrapped himself up and padded his way down the wide staircase, following the humming. At the foot of the stairs he noticed formal sitting and dining rooms. Both were decorated in keeping with the bedroom he'd just left. Turning he made his way as quietly as possible to the rear of the house, the humming sounding louder, a word or two sneaking in to be sung out loud.

Jack stopped and folded his arms, leaning on the doorframe of a large, well appointed kitchen. Sunlight flooded in through the windows, backlighting the figure before him. The sound which had awoken him, the children and dog, floated in through the open French doors.

He stopped to admire the view, and not the one out of the window. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he took in the details of the humming figure. 5’11”, floppy, sun-lightened brown hair, barefoot. A finely shaped ass was sadly covered by chinos; the tapering back was clad in a pink polo shirt. He watched the deft, neat way that a lightly haired arm reached across to pull open a drawer and retrieve a pair of scissors, the muscles in the arm bunching and relaxing most pleasingly.

“Jones, Ianto Jones, you are a sight for weary eyes.”

“Jack!” cried Ianto as he turned around, pleasure in his voice.

Jack started at the sight of the boy, no, scratch that, the man before him. It was Ianto, but older, happier? Ianto looked as if he was in his mid-thirties and life was treating him well. Jack recovered from the initial shock, and drawing a broad smile on his face, appraised the man before him.

Ianto had filled out as he’d matured, his thin frame had broadened at the shoulders, his hips leaner, but his upper body more defined. Tufts of chest hair peeked out of the open neck of the polo shirt. But it was Ianto’s face that had changed the most; the last of the puppy fat had gone and his face was all angles – jaw, cheekbones, and brow. The sexy pout was still there, but hard to see, as Ianto was grinning broadly. His eyes had more crow’s feet, but had lost the guarded look, the look of being haunted. Ianto now sported a neatly trimmed beard and his hair was the longest that Jack had seen it, lightened by the sun. His skin was tanned to a healthy glow with a smattering of freckles across his nose. He looked damn good, but what the hell was going on?

“Jack, what is it? Why are you staring? Do I have something on my face?”

“No” Jack drawled, stalling. “Just admiring your... hair” He grabbed at the first thing he could think of.

“Oh ... yes ... this? It's wonderful!” Ianto ran a hand through his hair, a hand with a wedding band. “Do you like it? You said it was a little long yesterday, so I went straight to the barbers.”

“I like it, suits you. But what’s going on? Where are we? When are we?”

Ianto gave Jack a puzzled smile. “What do you mean Cariad? We’re home.”

“You sure? We live in Cardiff.” Jack smiled dangerously at Ianto, but Ianto failed to see the danger or chose to ignore it.

“We haven’t lived in Cardiff for 5 years now. Oh dear, that bump on your head must have been worse than I thought. It’s affected your memory”. Concern in his eyes, Ianto stepped forward and felt Jack’s temple. “The bump’s still there – do you need a doctor? Does it hurt?”

Jack tensed then relaxed as he felt Ianto’s nimble fingers on his skin. “A little bit sore, and a bit of a headache – what happened?”

“I came back from running errands to see you run straight into a tree. You must have been playing tag with the kids. You passed out for a few seconds and when you came round you were a bit groggy. I got the kids calmed down and then carried you upstairs.” He flexed his arms. “I’m a lot stronger than I was when we first met”. He grinned.

Jack was gobsmacked and stared blankly at Ianto.

“Jack, are you really OK?”

“Kids? What kids? Whose kids?”

Ianto looked hurt. “Our kids, Jack. Ours...” Ianto paused. “I’m worried now; I’m going to call the doctor.”

“NO!” shouted Jack. “No doctor.”

Ianto reddened a little. “Ok,” he said meekly “No doctor, just as you wish.”

Ianto led Jack by the hand over to the table.

“Sit down, I’ve made coffee. We can talk a little.”

Jack sat down at the table, racking his brains, trying to remember everything, anything, as Ianto bustled around the kitchen. He brought over a tray with cups, saucers, cream, sugar and a steaming pot of coffee.

“There you go Cariad.” Ianto soothed as he poured “That’ll help.”

Jack brought the cup to his lips, and took a sip – it was good, but not Ianto’s usual excellent brew. He must have pulled a face.

“Something wrong with it? I can make more.” Ianto seemed so eager to please.

“No, it’s fine. I must still be a bit woozy”. He decided to go along with what Ianto was telling him - he had no reason not to trust, not now anyway.

“Poor Jack” smiled Ianto. “What’s the last thing you remember? You do remember me at least.” He smiled encouragingly at Jack.

“The very last thing was the five of us at the Hub. You brought something up from the archives, a book. I dropped it.”

Ianto’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember.

Jack took another sip, it still tasted good – perhaps it was the water.

“Oh! Now I remember... Jack, that was 10 years ago... Oh dear, you have forgotten a lot.”

“So fill me in...” he grinned salaciously. Ianto said nothing but Jack noticed the subtle change in Ianto’s posture. He moved so his body was facing Jack, his arms and shoulders opening, his hips tilting forward, pupils dilating. If Jack didn’t know any better, he’d swear that Ianto was yielding to Jack’s manner and voice, making himself available at a trademark grin. Ianto had obviously changed a lot in 10 years.

“Not long after that, Gwen married Rhys – she kept working at Torchwood until she became pregnant. You and Rhys put your feet down and told her she had to take proper maternity leave. Martha recommended Steve Jones as cover for Gwen, ex-SAS. The two of you prowled round each other like tomcats over territory. At the end of Gwen’s first maternity leave, Tosh and Owen got married. It was fine for the about 6 months or so, but then Tosh got badly injured and they both came to you. Said they wouldn’t sign on for another five years, but asked not be retconned. You were so good Jack, you let them go intact – they had to leave the UK, of course, so went to Japan – they’re still in touch – Owen and his 5 girls – they’ve got 4 daughters, can you imagine? Martha was fed up with UNIT by then, so she became our medic and Tom moved to Cardiff too. When Gwen become pregnant for the second time she decided to leave – Rhys and her boys were a bigger pull than you and Torchwood. So you got Steve back permanently – the lesser of two evils I think you said at the time. It was funny, you’d shout Jones and all three of us would answer.” Ianto paused to take another sip of his coffee.

“What about us?”

“About the time Gwen had her first baby, the rest of you were out after a Hoix. The rift machine was giving odd readings, I was doing a scan for Tosh and there was a rift flare.... When you got back I was still unconscious. I was out for 5 days; Owen said you barely left my side. About 3 months after that, I was getting fatter, I couldn’t fasten my trousers, so I watched what I was eating and still got bigger. Then at my annual physical we all got a big surprise. I was six months along in the world’s first male pregnancy – we think – Torchwood’s archives are a bit cagey on that. The best we could guess was that the rift flare had changed me, inside. Tosh was so pleased, Gwen too when she heard, endless advice on how to cope. Owen just kept smirking and wagging a finger at you.” Ianto grinned at the memory.

“Steve took a while to get his head around it. You were reluctant to start with, concerned about me. Then you made a decision; you got us a house, and made an honest man of me. You stuck with me right the way through”.

Ianto’s eyes had moistened at the memory and he reached across the table for Jack’s hand.

“It was then that I realised you really, truly loved me. Jack Junior was born 8 years ago – he went to the same day-care centre as Gwen’s two. Tosh had someone make up Pteranadon cuddly toys for all the Torchwood babies – made for interesting conversations with the staff. 2 years later and we had another little accident. But we knew what to expect, and Martha was brilliant. Tessa arrived just as Jack Jnr turned two. A handful, just like his father! About 6 months later the Doctor came back. It had been tough; you’d confined me to the Hub, a crèche in one of the old store rooms. But the Doctor... he gave us the best gift of all. He fixed you Jack. Took you into the Tardis and when you came out you were mortal. He offered to take you wherever you wanted, any time or place; you didn’t pause. You grabbed my hand and said: ‘Right here, right now – I’ve got all I want and need’. Oh Cariad...”

Ianto wiped the tears from his eyes and took a deep breath.

“We kept going at Torchwood for another year. But you were more and more distracted, wanting to spend more time with me and the children.  So we resigned and decided to move. We stuck a pin in a map and ended up here, in Connecticut. A hundred years of unspent salary meant you were really wealthy. We moved here 5 years ago. It’s a good town, we’ve got good friends and the children are happy, I’m happy – you are too. I have a lovely home, beautiful children and a handsome husband – what more could I want?”

Jack’s coffee had gone cold. He had children? He was married? He lived in the US? He was mortal? It all sounded insane but somehow plausible.

"I’m mortal again?”

“Yes, that’s why the lump on your head hasn’t disappeared. Come and look in the mirror.”

Ianto led Jack through to the entrance hall, a large oval mirror over a console table.

“See, still got the lump”

Jack didn’t see the lump – he was gazing at his reflection seeing the passage of time. His boyish handsomeness had made way for craggy good looks; the hair at his temples had gone gray. He reached up to touch it.

“My silver fox” murmured Ianto proudly, huskily.

Jack pulled Ianto into an embrace and felt Ianto respond. As he leant in for a kiss, he saw Ianto’s eyes close. Ianto was open and accepted Jack’s powerful invasive tongue. He still tasted of Ianto – but with a metallic tang. Mouthwash perhaps or body chemistry changing over time – 10 years and two kids must have changed him.

Just as Ianto moaned and wrapped himself to fit snugly against Jack’s body, there was the sound of scampering and cries of “Daddy” and “Tad”. Two small people looked up at them.

“Is Daddy better now, Tad?”

“Daddy’s feeling a lot better now Jack, but that nasty bump on the head has made him forgetful, but don’t worry.”

The little girl, Tessa, had grabbed at Ianto’s legs and stood looking up at Jack thoughtfully. Jack could see that his son took after him, and his daughter took after Ianto. Both had his dark hair and Ianto’s button nose. Cute looking kids. He grinned down at them.

“Jack Jnr, Tessa – go and put Trevor in his kennel and run upstairs and get changed now, we’ll be leaving soon.”

A sulky face and a pouty face stared at Ianto. “Do as your father tells you, kids” said Jack, thinking he had to step in and at least play the parent, if he didn’t quite feel it.

The two children ran back outside and then tore past them on their way upstairs.

“Why is it when you ask them they jump to it, but when I do, it’s a battle” smiled Ianto.

“It must be my natural authority – after all, you always do as you’re told” grinned Jack.

He expected some kind of sardonic quip, or an eye roll, but Ianto just nodded. “Yes I do, you’re the man of the house.”

Jack masked his surprise at Ianto’s reaction, “What’s this about going out?”

“Oh, we’re going over to the Axhelm’s for brunch – we all take turns on a Sunday. Though I’m not sure we’ll see the Van Sant’s, Carol was in an auto-accident at the supermarket yesterday. Nothing serious, just a fender-bender, but they took her to hospital. Do you still want to go? I can take the kids, and leave you here. I’m sure your men’s association friends will understand.”

“No... I think I’ll come along, but don’t leave my side; I’ll need you for intel. “

“As if I’d leave your side, Cariad, you do say the funniest things”.

“Ianto, what’s the Men’s Association?”

“Oh, it’s a club you’re a member of. Only the most wealthy and influential men in the town go along. Though I’m not sure what you all get up to.” Ianto smiled indulgently at his husband.

“Why not? Aren’t you a member too?”

“No, I wasn’t invited, and you seem happy enough, you’re there about 3 nights a week.”

“Better get ready then. Care to join me in the shower Mr Jones?”

“Certainly Jack, but it’s Mr Harkness, I took your name. Captain and Mr. Jack Harkness – see it’s on the mail”

Jack was starting to get annoyed. Annoyed he couldn’t remember these things, as it was obvious it was true, there was the mail, his and Ianto’s appearance, the children, there were photographs in every room – the evidence of a shared history was everywhere.

He stomped up the stairs and flung off the clothes, heading straight for the bathroom. Perhaps a shower would ease the knots of tension – it did, and even more so when Ianto joined him for some sudsy fun.

* * *

Ianto drove them to the Axhelm’s place in town. The children talking quietly in the back as Jack held a couple of loaves of Bara Brith – their contribution to the event. He stared out of the window as they drove along – everything was so neat and tidy. Nothing out of place, even the garbage cans were clean. No wonder Ianto thought it was a good town – it must appeal to the neat freak in him.

They parked in front of the house, on the street, as the driveway was full of cars. The children ran on ahead but Jack and Ianto took their time, Ianto putting his arm through Jacks as they made their way round the side of the house. They followed the sound of voices and came to a large patio, the table laden and groaning with food. Small groups of people were dotted around the patio and lawn, chatting politely.

“Ianto! Jack! How lovely to see you!” a petite blonde had turned to greet them.

“Hello Marie. How are you?”

“I’m fine Ianto. How are you?

“I'm fine. How are the children? “

“Fine. How are yours? “

“Fine. Though Jack had a little accident earlier today, lost his memory a little.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What have you got there?”

“It’s my mother’s recipe, Bara Brith, a Welsh fruit cake.”

“How lovely, thank you. Help yourself to drinks.”

They picked up an iced tea from the table and started to circulate.

“The Markowes and the Eberharts – Bobbie and Dave, and Joanna and Walter” murmured Ianto in Jack’s ear.

“Hello, Bobbie. “

“Hello, Ianto.”

“How are you? “

“I'm fine. How are you?”

“I'm fine. How are the children?”

“Fine.”

“Hello, Joanna. “

“Hello, Ianto.”

“How are you? “

“I'm fine. How are you?”

“I'm fine. How are the children?”

“Fine.”

Jack watched Ianto chat with the wives and spent half an ear listening to Dave and Walter going on about their golf game. He pulled at Ianto’s elbow, “C’mon Ianto-honey, we should circulate.” Ianto smiled at the two couples as Jack pulled him away.

As the afternoon wore on Jack became bored, so very bored. It was all so insipid. Sure they were all nice enough people, the women were all great looking, but conversation never seemed to get beyond polite enquiries about people’s health. Anytime his memory loss was spoken of, Ianto would explain and finish up with an expression on his face that said “Tsk! Men!”

The only high point, as far as Jack was concerned, was Carol van Sant’s behaviour after she’d tasted Ianto’s cake. She looked as if she’d had an orgasm and spent the rest of the afternoon telling everyone repeatedly “I'll just die if I don't get this recipe. I'll just die if I don't get this recipe. I'll just die if I don't get this recipe“. Jack had grinned, but the rest, including Ianto, seemed a little embarrassed. In the end her husband Ted shepherded her home.

To get away, Jack faked a headache – which wasn’t far from the truth. Ianto was concerned and quickly rounded up the children and made their goodbyes, while Jack waited in the car.

On the way home, Ianto chattered on brightly about how lovely the afternoon had been, how nice it was to see everyone, how delicious the food was. His smile only dropped a little thinking of Jack’s memory loss and Carol van Sant.

“Poor Carol, it wasn’t like her at all. Maybe I should go round later, see how she is.”

Jack grunted a response – too distracted by his own thoughts. As if he’d tempted fate, his head was pounding when they got home. He went straight up stairs, calling out to Ianto. “Two Advil and water, now!”

By the time he’d got undressed, Ianto stood in front of him – bottle of pills and a glass of water on a tray.

“I’ll just leave it here; I’ll draw the curtains and let you rest. I’ll come and see how you are later.”

Jack took the pills and lay on the bed. The summer afternoon carried on around him. Birdsong and lawnmowers in the distance, the children playing quietly with the dog outside, from within the house the sounds of Ianto cleaning and cooking. So very domestic. The pills kicked in and he drifted off into a doze.

He awoke to find Ianto standing over him – his expression completely blank. Not a polite mask but emotionless. When he saw Jack was looking at him, it was if a switch had been flicked. Ianto sat on the side of the bed, and leant over.

“Hello... How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, how are you?” answered Jack devilishly, hoping for a reaction.

“I’m fine, dinner in an hour? The kids have had theirs”

“Sounds fine” Jack looked up at Ianto. God but he was handsome. “Shut and lock the door and come to bed.”

Ianto did as he was told and was soon under the covers. Jack leant across to Ianto. “You’re still dressed” he growled.

“Sorry, you didn’t say”

Jack was ticked off by Ianto’s literalness, he wasn’t normally so, well, clueless.

“Ah, I can sort that.” And grabbed at Ianto’s neckline, ripping the shirt wide open. No reaction other than Ianto gazing adoringly up at him. Jack’s irritation grew a little more; he fumbled at Ianto’s belt and ripped open his trousers. All Ianto did was raise a hand to caress Jack’s face. “Cariad” he sighed.

Jack was annoyed. In the past, Ianto would have protested, but now he accepted it, as if it was expected.

“Hold tight, you’re in for a bumpy ride.”

Jack speared himself into Ianto – this wasn’t lovey-dovey, this was angry sex. All the while Jack pounded him, Ianto touched Jack in all the right places, egging him on, but still with that damned adoring look on his face.

“Oh, Jack you're the best, you're the champ, you're the master...! “

Jack felt the tickle of his oncoming orgasm and really began to thrust into Ianto – so much so that Ianto’s head banged repeatedly against the headboard – without complaint.

Jack came with a roar and a snarl, and watched as Ianto pulled the back of his hand to his mouth and moaned softly as he came.

Jack collapsed back on the bed, sweating, chest heaving.

“Thank you Cariad, that was wonderful.” Said Ianto as he swung himself off the bed and entered the bathroom. As Jack recovered from his exertions he heard a tap running and Ianto came back, bathrobe on, and a washcloth in his hand. Jack grabbed the cloth from Ianto’s hand as Ianto reached to wipe him down.

“No! I’ll do it myself”

Ianto smiled his acceptance. “I’ll shower and dress. Hungry?”

Jack’s stomach growled in reply and they both laughed.

As Ianto showered Jack lay there, examining his feelings. Something nagged at him. Something was causing this frustration and anger. He seemingly had everything. Wealth, looks, family, a beautiful partner. But there were things that rankled. His musings were interrupted as Ianto entered the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel.

Smiling at Jack, Ianto opened and closed drawers and cupboards. Jack watched lazily as Ianto dressed in his usual neat and graceful way.

“That’s a great shirt – red really suits you.”

“Do you like it? It’s new – you took me to Bergdorf’s and let me go mad. I know you like to see me in red.”

Another gram of frustration was added to the pot. As the last cufflink was fastened, Ianto grinned at Jack.

“I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Jack heard Ianto make his way downstairs; soon noises and delicious smells wafted upstairs. He took a short, brisk shower and dressed hurriedly in whatever came to hand.

* * *

Jack entered the kitchen-diner to find the lights turned down low, candles lit, prawn appetisers on the table and Ianto walking towards him with a glass of wine in each hand.

“Ianto, this looks wonderful... thank you” He took the proffered glass.

“I thought you deserved a treat after your trying day.”

“A toast... to us!”

“To us!” echoed Ianto as their glasses clinked. “Sit in”

They took their seats, and began eating. Ianto was playful and kept telling Jack all about the funny things the children had done.

Jack laughed at the right places, but just wondered at how much Ianto had changed. He’d noticed that there were few books in the house, but Ianto had been an avid reader. Sure, there were cookbooks, but still... Ianto had also lost his wit, his sarcasm, his spikiness – aspects of his character that Jack loved.

Course after course followed, all the while Ianto chattered on, not noticing Jack’s mood darken. At last the meal was over and they began to clear up. Well, Jack attempted to help but Ianto seemed so shocked that he stood aside.

“Ianto?”

“Yes, Cariad”

“What’s happened to you?”

“What do you mean? I’m the same as I’ve always been.”

“You’re just like all those other women we met today. A good little housewife”

“But you like me like this. Don’t you?”

“No, no I don’t. Are we undercover? Are you playing a part?”

Ianto stopped and stared at him. “Jack, I told you earlier, we stopped working for Torchwood five years ago.”

“The why are you so boring? So weak and accepting? Where’s the sarky tea-boy that kept me on my toes?”

Ianto stifled a sob. “Jack, I’m calling the doctor, there must be something wrong with you to say such hurtful things. I thought we were happy!”

“Don’t you dare” snarled Jack as he grabbed Ianto’s wrist to stop him reaching for the phone.

It felt like Ianto’s arm was made of steel. Just on the edge of hearing was the sound of a motor straining; then Ianto stopped reaching and the noise stopped. Jack’s eyes widened in surprise and just as quickly narrowed in suspicion.

“Ianto, what does archaic mean?”

“Archaic?”

“Never mind”

“If you don’t want a doctor, then I think you’ve had a little too much to drink. I’ll make you some coffee.”

Ianto turned and reached up to a cupboard for mugs. Jack looked around the kitchen for a weapon – spying the knife block on the counter; he reached and pulled out a long, sharp blade.

Ianto turned after laying the mugs on the counter. Jack thrust the knife into Ianto three times – jab, jab, jab – and took a step back. He got Ianto twice in the abdomen and once in the chest. He risked a glance at the blade – not a trace of blood.

He glanced up again – wanting to keep the thing in sight – it certainly wasn’t Ianto. It was a cruel trick. He watched as the robot staggered a little.

“Oh Jack! My new shirt! How could you do a thing like that? Just when I was going to give you coffee! How could you do a thing like that? I thought we were happy! Just when I was going to... how could you do a thing like that... just when I was going to give you coffee! Oh Jack... I thought we were happy... I thought we were happy... happy... coffee... how could you do a thing like that? Like that? Like that? Like that? Happy... Happy... “

Dangerous looking sparks were leaping across the Stepford-Ianto’s body. In a final surge of energy, the Iantobot grabbed Jack in a deadly embrace. Jack could feel the electrical energy slamming into his body.

The momentum of the robot tipped Jack off balance and they both fell to the floor, Jack pinned under the deadweight.

Jack died staring into the cracked face of Ianto.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> AN: You liked? The inspiration was the 1975 version of The Stepford Wives, not the 2004. Watch it, it’s a great movie. I followed the golden rule of evil doppelgangers – I made him have long hair and a beard – though I think GDL looks great with longer hair and beard, personally.


End file.
